


Run Aground

by celeste9



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Clothed Sex, Crossover, Cuddling & Snuggling, Flirting, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Innuendo, Letters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28675272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: After Poe crash lands, he finds himself in unfamiliar surroundings a long, long way away from where he's meant to be. The handsome, mouthy soldier he meets who calls himself Alexander Hamilton, however, is definitely an unexpected plus.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Alexander Hamilton
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Run Aground

**Author's Note:**

> Do I know why Hamilton can understand Galactic Basic, or why Poe can understand English? No, I do not. Just go with it, it’s probably the least ridiculous thing about this whole fic, ha. I’m imagining it set sometime after TLJ for Poe, and during the Revolution for Hamilton. My friend suggested I tag this “Poe and Hamilton flirt make out and maybe fuck” as that’s how I described it, so, heh, that’s basically the fic. (I just really needed this to exist, okay.)

Poe was proud of the landing, honestly. He didn’t think a lot of people could have pulled it off, what with the fire and the haze and everything. The electronics in his ship had gone haywire, and he didn’t think it was all from the damage, either. Some sort of energy field, maybe? He had never seen anything like it.

Didn’t matter, he supposed. He surveyed the ship from the ground with some dismay. Gonna need some work. Why did he always crash without BB-8? (Maybe that was his answer. No BB-8, hence the crash.)

The planet seemed alright at least. Breathable air, human-normal gravity, gray sky but that seemed to just be the gloomy weather. It was chilly but not alarmingly so, and the terrain was forested. It’d be alright to camp out in for a couple of days, or however long it took to get the ship back up and running. Hopefully if he needed anything there was a town he could easily reach.

Also hopefully there weren’t any angry predators hanging out in the trees, looking to make a snack of him. At least he had his blaster at his hip, and the rifle stowed in storage.

Poe drew the back of his hand across his forehead and noted it came away with a smear of blood. Huh. He must have smacked his head in the crash but he didn’t even remember it. That would probably start hurting soon. He dug around in his gear for his canteen and splashed some water on it to clean it a little. He amused himself imagining the face Finn would make at him before he forced him to sit and be cleaned properly.

“Pardon me,” a voice said, and Poe nearly fell over himself turning around. Damn, he hadn’t heard anything.

There was a man standing before him, slender and dark-haired, big brown eyes, dressed in a long blue coat with a lot of buttons over some sort of waistcoat. He was young, couldn’t be older than Finn, if that. Handsome, Poe thought idly. He wondered if the head wound hadn’t made him a bit cloudy after all, or maybe he had just been distracted in his own thoughts. Stupid. He knew better.

“What is that?” the man finished. He was pointing at the ship.

Poe turned around. “Uh. My ship? I mean, I know she’s not pretty at the moment but she’s fairly standard.” Couldn’t hold a candle to _Black One,_ but then, what ship could have? Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The man’s ridiculously huge eyes narrowed. “That does not look like any ship I’ve ever seen, and there’s no water anywhere near here. You’d have to be a terrible captain indeed to end up this far aground.”

“I’m a commander, actually, thanks.” The demotion hadn’t stuck and Poe would like to forget about it, if possible.

“You most certainly are not,” the man said, taking a step forward, his cheeks flushing. “We don’t have that rank, only commander of our army, and only General Washington can lay claim to that title.”

“Washington?” Poe wasn’t sure what was going on here but he didn’t like the flare of temper he had accidentally provoked. Who got that upset over titles, really?

“The commander-in-chief? That Washington?”

“Look, pal, I’m sorry. I’m not from around here and frankly, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. So not to be rude or anything but I just wanna go back home. If you don’t want to help me fix my ship, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me alone.”

The man’s hand was resting alarmingly on the hilt of a sheathed weapon on his belt, clearly a blade of some sort. Poe was a pretty good draw with his blaster and he liked his chances, but he didn’t particularly want to have to shoot this guy.

“Do you stand for the revolution or not?”

Poe hesitated. He had no idea what revolution was being referred to but in his experience, more often than not, yeah, he sided with the revolutionaries. “If you mean the Resistance, then hell yeah. Otherwise, I’m generally on the side of freedom.”

The man was still glaring at him but his hand relaxed away from his hilt. “Where did you say you were from?”

“Well, Yavin Four, specifically, but I’m guessing that’s not what you meant.”

“Is that… in the colonies?”

“It doesn’t matter. I came from somewhere else, and I want to get back there. Can you help me or not?”

“I must return to camp. The general will have need of me; I will be late already.”

“Fine, then, looks like we’ve got nothing to offer each other. Good luck in your revolution.” Poe turned back to his ship, annoyed and frustrated and unsure whether it was with this stranger or himself. He needed to get back to Leia but this wasn’t sitting right. If the guy was part of an army he shouldn’t be alone in the woods; something must have happened to him, too. They could help each other.

They should help each other.

Poe sighed. He turned towards the stranger again. “My name’s Poe.”

After a second’s wait, the man said, “Alexander Hamilton.” 

“Okay, Alexander. Tell me what you’re late for and maybe I can help you.”

Clearly suspicious, Alexander’s gaze flicked down Poe’s body and up to his face again. “Why would you help me?”

“Let’s just say I like an underdog. You strike me as an underdog.” He had the look. Feisty, trying to prove himself. Poe had a good instinct for these things.

“And you strike me as someone I’d be stupid to trust.”

“Fair enough. You know anything about the First Order?”

“Should I?”

Huh. Well, Poe supposed he didn’t know how far off-course he’d ended up. There were still places the First Order hadn’t touched, and places news didn’t travel to very quickly. And even when it did, sometimes regular people had no reason to care until it affected them, though Poe didn’t think Alexander was like that. He wouldn’t be a revolutionary if he was. “Think the successor to the Empire.”

Alexander was frowning. “England? But they don’t--” His hand twitched towards his hilt again. “You are against England, aren’t you? You believe we should be allowed to govern ourselves?”

Poe took a step forward, reaching to Alexander in what he meant to be a calming, friendly gesture, but Alexander shrugged away from him, bristling. “When I said I wasn’t from around here, I meant I’m really not from around here. I don’t know what kind of scuffle you’re in. My war’s a bit bigger than one planet.”

“One… planet? Are you drunk?”

“No, are you?”

“I don’t think you can help me,” Alexander said, backing away. “Good luck with your…” He waved his hand. “Ship.”

A sinking feeling was settling into Poe’s chest. Too many strange occurrences, the haze, the electronics malfunction, Alexander’s lack of understanding…

Poe was afraid he wasn’t just lost on a backwater planet. He was afraid he might have ended up somewhere entirely wrong.

Damn it.

“Okay, okay, wait. Please,” Poe said, and something in his voice must have been compelling enough because Alexander actually did stop. He looked at Poe, waiting, his arms across his chest.

“I’m not sure I can explain,” Poe started, because if Alexander genuinely didn’t recognize a starship when he saw one, this was all gonna just make him think Poe was crazy. “But believe me when I say that where I’m from, I’m fighting for freedom, too, so I’m on your side. I’d like to help, if I can. And if I can’t, well. I guess I’d like the company.”

“We have a problem with spies, you understand,” Alexander said, though he appeared to be softening.

“Yeah, of course. But if you knew me, you’d know I’m not so good with the subterfuge. I’m more of a point me at the enemy so I can blow them up kind of guy.” Poe rubbed the back of his head ruefully. “Not that that means I don’t keep getting put into undercover situations. Generally I try to charm my way through them. I don’t know why I’m telling you that, it’s not helping my cause, is it?”

There was a glimmer of a smile playing at the corners of Alexander’s mouth. “Do people generally find you charming?”

“Actually, yeah. You mean you don’t?” Poe grinned at him.

“I think I’ll need more time to decide.”

“More time you’re willing to give me?”

Finally Alexander returned his smile. “It would seem so. Certainly I can’t just leave you here; who knows what sort of trouble you’d get into on your own?”

“Sound logic,” Poe agreed. He squeezed Alexander’s shoulder and this time the man allowed the contact. “I think we’re going to get along.”

“I’ve been told I’m something of an acquired taste.”

“Funny, people say that about me, too. My friends say I’m an asshole.”

Alexander laughed. “So do mine.”

“So we’ve got something in common.” Poe felt himself getting lost in Alexander’s beautiful eyes and forced himself to look away before he did something dumb. Or before he made Alexander rethink their truce by being creepy. “I’m here because I’m lost and I crashed, but what about you?”

“We were ambushed on the road and I became separated from my fellow soldiers,” Alexander explained. “There were men on my trail so I led them away as best I could and now I am making my circuitous way back to the camp.”

“Are you still being followed?”

“I killed two men earlier today, but I couldn’t say if there are more. I don’t believe so, but as I said, I’m not certain.”

“Hence the circuitous route?”

“Indeed. Though it must be said, the camp is not much of a secret. I would simply prefer not to lead the enemy there.”

“Sure.” Poe smacked Alexander’s upper arm and gripped it briefly. “What would you say the foot traffic is like around here?”

Alexander’s gaze flickered to Poe’s ship and then back to him in understanding. “Deserted, for the most part. And even were it not, with the risk of insulting you, I doubt anyone would want your… ship.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.” If his suspicions were correct, Poe doubted anyone here would know what to do with it. “That’s fine, then. I’ll come with you, watch your back.”

“I am quite capable.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t, but everyone’s safer with a companion. Besides, it’ll be more fun with me around.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Probably not, no. But I think you like me a little bit.”

“I’m afraid you presume, but even were it true, my taste is questionable.”

“Another thing we have in common, then,” Poe said, smiling at him. “You should see my friends.”

“Mine will string me up,” Alexander said. “Especially Laurens. He won’t let me out of his sight after this.”

“You can tell him you had me as your protection.”

“As I said, I don’t need protection.” Alexander paused. “But you can tell Laurens so anyway. It may lessen his mothering.”

“Tell me about Laurens,” Poe encouraged as he dug through his gear in the small storage compartment of his ship, looking for anything that might prove useful to carry along with him.

“Laurens, well.” Alexander’s voice went soft. “He’s my best friend. He’s annoying and frustrating but he’s clever and kind and he believes in what I believe. He worries too much but he makes me eat when I’ve forgotten and sleep when I’ve been writing so long the words blur.”

Poe felt a sudden pang of longing for Finn, then squashed it. He’d be home soon enough; he was sure of it. “Better get you back to him, then.” He stuffed a few items into a satchel.

“He probably thinks I’ve finally managed to get myself killed. I’d like to prove him wrong.”

Poe shouldered his blaster rifle – it was bound to come in handy – and said, “You’re in luck, because proving people wrong is one of my special skills. Come on, let’s go.”

“You know you’re bleeding, don’t you?” Alexander asked.

“What?” Poe touched the cut on his face again, his fingertips coming away bloody. Maybe he should have put some bacta on it, but it hadn’t seemed necessary. “Oh. Yeah. It’s fine.”

Alexander sighed in a put-upon way and drew a folded, white square of fabric from inside his coat, forcibly dabbing at Poe’s temple without waiting for invitation or permission or anything. “Rather you don’t leave a trail of blood for the British to follow.”

Alexander wasn’t, by any definition of the word, gentle, but Poe decided he didn’t mind the ministration anyway. Particularly not when it allowed him an excuse to admire Alexander’s eyes from so close up. His ‘I think you’re an idiot and I might tell you so to your face in a second’ expression was comfortingly familiar; it reminded Poe of Finn. “Makes sense.”

Shoving the bloodied fabric back into his coat, Alexander stepped back. “That will suffice. Try not to bleed again.”

Poe saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

Alexander rolled his eyes. “This way.”

They walked quietly through the woods as the sky began to darken with the approach of sunset. Poe was glad Alexander seemed to know where he was going, or at least did a good job of faking it, as Poe had to admit that all the trees looked the same to him.

“Your weapons,” Alexander began in the sort of tone that was feigning simple curiosity in order to couch a deeper suspicion and interest. “I’ve never seen guns like those.”

“Special make,” Poe hedged.

“As is your ship?”

“Right.”

Alexander made a humming sound. “When you say you’re from somewhere else, where exactly do you mean?”

Poe glanced at him sideways. “You don’t take your time, do you?”

“I’ve never been accused of that, no,” Alexander said with self-aware wryness.

“Will you be satisfied if I say you won’t have heard of it?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. Still, worth a shot.” Poe considered his options. Alexander didn’t strike him as the sort of person to stop pushing, or to drop what he was interested in. Any explanation Poe could give would likely sound like insanity. Poe wasn’t particularly invested in his current course of action; he’d be sorry if he was forced to abandon Alexander but it would be far from the worst thing that could happen.

Honestly, he was inclined to just say his piece and see how it all shook out. Maybe Alexander would surprise him.

Poe held out his blaster rifle to Alexander as an offering. “It isn’t a gun, it’s a blaster. Careful,” he said, as Alexander turned it over, examining it. “And I didn’t come from across the sea, I came from across the stars.”

Alexander stopped walking, the blaster still in his hands, but his dark, intelligent gaze focused on Poe. “The stars?”

“From a long way, I think. Longer than I was meant to travel. Not sure what happened, exactly, or how I’m going to get home.”

“You know you sound insane, don’t you?”

“Sure. But can you explain that?” Poe nodded at the blaster.

Alexander pursed his lips. “There’s no place for bullets or powder.”

“Because it doesn’t use any.”

“May I?” Alexander’s stance was a clear indication of what he was asking.

Poe scanned the surrounding forest and shrugged. “As long as you aren’t aiming at me.”

Alexander was clever enough to figure out the workings of the blaster rifle on his own; he took careful aim at a tree and fired. Though he was braced for the recoil he seemed startled by… well, by all of it, by the feel of the blaster as it went off, by the sound it made, by the blast itself. He stumbled and managed to land on his ass on the ground.

“Shit,” he said, his eyes wide, and Poe laughed.

He extended a hand to help Alexander stand. “Not what you were expecting?”

Grasping Poe’s hand, Alexander allowed himself to get hauled back up. He gave the blaster rifle back to Poe. “I don’t understand. How is it possible?”

“Like I said, I’m not from here. The First Order? That you’ve never heard of? That’s my enemy. They’re trying to control the galaxy, and we’re trying to stop it. So after I help you, I’m really hoping I can figure out how to go home.”

“You can help me, but there’s not much I can do to return the favor, is there?”

Poe shook his head, sorry he couldn’t do anything to abate the frustrated helplessness he saw in Alexander’s face. “I don’t think so. But I’m not a fan of being by myself, or sitting around. So honestly, you are doing me a favor.”

“Seems to me that you wouldn’t have been sitting around, you would have been fixing your ship.”

“Maybe. But the delay’s worth it.” He nudged Alexander in the side. “I kinda like your company. And your face.”

Surprise flashed across Alexander’s face and then his expression went sly. “You’ll need to stand in line.”

Poe laughed aloud. “Oh, is that how it is? Sorry, I didn’t know you were such a catch.”

“I write beautiful letters,” Alexander said loftily.

“I’ll be expecting one, then.” Poe looked up, watching the sky through the trees. The last rays of light were fast fading. “I don’t think we should carry on in the dark. You want to set up camp?”

Alexander didn’t disagree, so they walked only a little farther until they found as good a spot as any, underneath the foliage of a great tree. The air was cool enough that they sat pressed together from shoulder to hip, purely to share warmth, of course. Starting a fire seemed to be asking for trouble but Poe had a glowrod, which Alexander found fascinating. Apparently he was used to candles.

“We should eat,” Poe said.

“Unfortunately I haven’t any food.”

“Luckily I do, and I’m happy to share.” Poe pulled a tin of rations out of his satchel and offered a bar of reconstituted protein to Alexander.

Alexander sniffed it curiously. “Are you certain this is food?”

“Actually, no, but it hasn’t killed me yet.”

“We’ve been eating old bread and jerky, when we can even get it. The commanding officers eat better, of course.” Alexander took a tentative bite, gagged, and then, with the face of a man used to eating whatever garbage was available, ate the rest ravenously. Poe pushed another portion over to him and hoped it didn’t look too much like pity. The guy was far too skinny.

Alexander sipped water from a too small flask, making Poe wonder how long he’d been stretching it out for or whether he’d found a water source to refill it. He tilted his head back as he drank, baring his throat, and Poe was faintly captivated by the shape of his mouth around the rim.

Okay. Concentrate on something else. “We haven’t been eating all that well either,” Poe said. “We… Recently, we, uh, we suffered a setback, to understate it. So we’ve been rebuilding. People are scared, and it’s difficult to find resources. But it’s getting better.”

“The problem with a revolution is you have to fight for everything.”

“Yes.” Poe leaned his head back against the tree. “But someone has to do it, or nothing changes.”

They lapsed into silence for several long moments, oddly comfortable given their short acquaintance. Then Alexander said, with the air of a confession he’d made before, “I want to be more than I am. Laurens says what I’m doing is important, that the general needs me, but I’m tired of simply manning his journal, of writing his correspondence, of fighting with my quill and not a gun. I’m good at it! But I can be more, I can do more. I want to lead men.”

“Leading men isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” Poe squeezed his eyes shut, banishing the memory of ships exploding, of the disappointment on Leia’s face. “You do what you think is right but sometimes that’s not enough, and sometimes you’re wrong. Sometimes people die and it’s your fault.”

Alexander’s gaze was heavy on the side of Poe’s face and he seemed to shift imperceptibly closer, the heat of his body sinking into Poe. “Better that than being forced to stand to the side, watching.”

“I guess it depends on your perspective. But wars aren’t won without an awful lot of people in the background doing the legwork no one recognizes.”

“You said you’re the person who blows things up. You expect me to believe you’d be happy composing pleas for money and supplies?”

“Well, no. I hate that shit. When Leia makes me do requisitions, I want to kill myself. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know it’s important.”

Alexander smacked Poe’s thigh, hard enough to hurt. “General Washington thinks he is protecting me, but I wish he’d let me prove myself.”

Blast but Alexander was young. He was giving Poe flashbacks to himself. “Plenty of time for that. Maybe you should focus on returning to him first.”

Alexander made a noncommittal sound. “I expect he’s tired of reading his own letters.”

Poe chuckled. “Go to sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

“That’s hardly fair,” Alexander said, but he couldn’t hide the way his body was slumping against Poe’s or his yawn. It wasn’t long before his head settled on Poe’s shoulder, his breathing soft and even. Poe wondered when he had last slept.

Poe hadn’t slept in some time, either, but his mind was too uneasy and too cluttered to sleep. If he repaired his ship, would that even be enough? If he took flight, where would he end up? Home, or lost somewhere in this galaxy that wasn’t his?

He listened to the sound of Alexander breathing, narrowing his focus to the calm, soothing rhythm of it. He could help Alexander, and that would be something, something good, something he could accomplish. His body felt warm and comfortable against Poe’s, like someone Poe could care about.

That was enough for now.

-

Alexander spent the entire night curled around Poe, drooling a little on Poe’s jacket. It was weirdly endearing. Apparently the guy was quite cuddly once he got to know you.

It was nice. Poe had missed it. He’d been sleeping alone for longer than he wanted to admit.

His hair was soft, too, against the skin of Poe’s neck, and his breath was warm. He snuffled a bit as he slowly woke, and Poe rubbed his arm gently. “Hey. Good morning.”

Alexander pushed himself back, blinking, a small flush in his cheeks. “You should have woken me. I would have taken over the watch.”

“It’s okay. Seemed like you needed the rest.” Poe handed him rations from the tin, which Alexander ate without protest.

“I don’t need to be babied.” Alexander stood up, brushing debris from the hanging tails of his coat and from his pants. “You don’t even have to be here.”

“I mean, yeah, but since I am, you might as well take advantage of me. That didn’t come out right. But you can take advantage of me in that way, too, if you like.” Poe offered Alexander the sort of smile he usually only used when he was trying to get laid. Or when he was trying to get something out of, say, Agent Terex.

Alexander scowled at him, but the flush wasn’t fading. “We still have a long way to walk. We were on horses, you know. We came quite a distance from the camp.”

Poe didn’t know what a horse was but this didn’t seem the time to ask. Embarrassment made Alexander prickly. Good to know. “Lead the way.”

He did, in sullen silence. It only lasted so long, though, before Alexander began saying, “You won’t blend in at camp. It’s not just that you don’t have a uniform, your clothes are odd for anyone. And your manner of speech is… Well, they say I’m brazen, but you’re entirely something else. Where am I supposed to say you came from? The general will be suspicious, as he should be, even if you did help me. I can’t very well say you came from across the stars. He’ll think I’ve lost my mind.”

“I promise not to flirt with you in front of your general.”

Alexander gave Poe a withering look. “Forgive me if I doubt your commitment.”

Poe risked sliding up next to Alexander so their arms brushed as they walked. “How committed do you want me to be?”

Nearly stumbling as his footing slipped, Alexander said, “You could at least tell me your intentions, for a start.”

“Entirely dishonorable. Does that help?”

“No. You could at least court me like a proper gentleman, write me sonnets, offer me flowers and pretty things.”

“What if I told you I were not a proper gentleman?”

“Well,” Alexander sniffed, though amusement was playing in his dark eyes, “then I must refuse you, for I am General Washington’s aide-de-camp and I must have nothing less than a proper gentleman.”

“That’s too bad.” Poe slowed his pace, Alexander hanging back to match him, and ran his hand down over Alexander’s tied back hair before nuzzling against the side of his face for just the span of a breath. “There are a lot of things I’d like to do to you that aren’t gentlemanly at all.”

Alexander’s breath caught but his words were astonishingly even. “You may be unaware that my oral skills are held in high regard.”

Poe stopped short, staring at Alexander’s back until the man stopped as well, turning slightly towards him with a raised eyebrow. “Wow,” Poe said. “That… wow. I was not expecting that.”

“Are you coming?” The teasing lines of his expression confirmed Alexander was completely aware of the innuendo and doing it on purpose.

“I damned well hope so,” Poe said, half under his breath, and they resumed their trek.

The sun remained resolutely hidden, the day cold enough that Poe was glad of the exertion to keep warm. In spite of how heavy Alexander’s uniform looked, every now and then he would cross his arms in front of his chest and rub his hands over his upper arms. Poe took the initiative to stay close to him and Alexander made no move to object.

“The weather doesn’t agree with you?” Poe asked.

The way Alexander looked at him was searching, questioning, but he must have been content enough with what he saw because he answered, “I’m from the Caribbean,” as though that was explanation. Maybe it would have been, if Poe had any idea what he was talking about. “I came to New York several years ago now but I still dislike the cold.”

“I’m from somewhere warm, too. The humidity was so thick in the air it felt like you could taste it.”

“Not ideal but still much preferable to this.”

“All the best activities come with a bit of sweat,” Poe agreed, and Alexander huffed.

“I’m afraid you’ll need to try harder than that to distract me. Duty before pleasure.”

“That’s boring.” But Poe listened to the silence around them as they stopped speaking. He was certain something was off, not the sound of rodents scurrying in the underbrush, but something heavier, something…

He could tell by Alexander’s tension that he was feeling it, too. They exchanged a look, silently agreeing to be on their guard but to make no indication they suspected anything. Poe resumed a mindless bit of chatter, quieter, but enough to mask the fact that he was scouring the surrounding woods for enemy soldiers.

It was Alexander who spotted them first, a flash of movement between the trees, but Poe reacted quicker. He had two men down in the dirt before Alexander could even load and aim. Poe strode forward, blaster still raised, to check the bodies, while Alexander ran off to make sure there wasn’t anyone else hiding in the vicinity. Poe had only just confirmed the men were dead when he heard a shot and a cry of pain, undoubtedly Alexander, swiftly followed by another gunshot.

“Alexander!” Poe yelled, a jolt of nauseous concern flitting through him, as he set off in the direction of the noise.

“Fine,” Alexander called back to him, and Poe found him leaning against a tree, clutching his shoulder, his rifle – no, musket, Alexander had called it – near his feet and another body on the ground nearby. “Those weapons of yours, I can see the advantage.”

“I would have given you my rifle if I’d realized exactly how much effort yours requires to shoot.” Poe pressed his hand over Alexander’s, stemming the bloodflow. Blaster wounds never bled nearly so much. “Let me see.” Gently he moved Alexander’s hand, seeing the blood seeped through his waistcoat. He pressed his palm to it again. “Come on. I’ll fix you up, since you were rude enough to be hit in the first place.”

“Unintentional, I can assure you.” He sank down to the dirt as Poe dug into the medkit he’d stuffed in his satchel. “You fuss like Laurens.”

“Excuse me for preferring you don’t bleed out.”

“It’s not as bad as that.”

“Let’s not find out.” Poe pushed Alexander’s coat down over his shoulders and unbuttoned his waistcoat, trying to get better access to the wound. “How many layers do you have on?”

“The correct amount.”

Poe rolled his eyes, finally getting to the shirt beneath it all and pulling it up. Every movement to Alexander’s arm made him bite his lip and wince. “Just so you know, this wasn’t how I planned getting your clothes off. There would have been a lot more seduction involved.”

“I’m glad to know that as I’m feeling a bit abused.” Alexander shivered faintly beneath Poe’s fingers as he cleaned some of the blood away to get a better look at the wound, leaving Poe unsure whether it was from cold, pain, or just Poe touching him.

“This will hurt,” Poe said, the only indication he gave before yanking a bit of metal out from Alexander’s shoulder. Barbaric, honestly.

Alexander swore, his head thudding against the tree trunk. “What did I say about feeling abused?”

Poe chuckled and rubbed some bacta into the wound. He gently massaged the surrounding skin as a sort of peace offering. (And also, frankly, because he wanted to. This might not have been how he planned it but he wasn’t going to turn down the chance to get his hands on Alexander, not when the man wasn’t objecting.) He carefully covered up the wound, hoping it would be barrier enough to leave the bacta undisturbed to do its job of healing.

He hummed as he worked, until Alexander said, “What is that song?”

“Something my mother used to sing to me, mostly when she had to patch me up after some scrape or another. It’s a habit, I don’t really think about it. Sorry. Makes me feel close to her, I guess.”

“You don’t see her often?”

“She died. I was eight.”

Alexander was quiet a moment, then shared, “I was twelve when my mother died.”

On a whim, Poe lightly pressed his lips next to the bandage. Alexander’s shiver this time was almost certainly because of Poe. He was blushing when Poe raised his eyes upwards.

Alexander swallowed. “Are you finished? It’s cold; I’d like to put my clothes back on.”

“And deprive me of the view?”

“Would I prefer not catching an inevitable chill to providing you with an opportunity to ogle my bare skin? Shockingly, yes.”

“Spoilsport. Go ahead, cover up. You’re not much to look at anyway. Too skinny.”

“The ladies have always shown great admiration for my calves.”

“Oh, your _calves_ ,” Poe repeated with a mocking edge, sneaking a look even so. “I’ll have to take your word for it, since you’ve got those boots on. Obstructs the view.”

“Maybe I’ll give you a better look later.” Alexander heaved himself to his feet, using his uninjured arm to brace himself against the tree a moment. “I’d like to keep walking until it gets dark; then we should be in view of the camp by late tomorrow morning.”

“Sure you’re okay to do that?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Alexander said, fairly dripping annoyance. “It was a shoulder wound, that’s all. And happily not in my writing arm. There will be an awful lot to catch up on once I get back.”

“Most people might like a break after something like this,” Poe said, matching Alexander’s pace as he started walking.

Alexander eyed him. “This was a break.”

“Sure,” Poe said, dropping it. To be fair, it wasn’t like he was going to try for time off when he got back to the Resistance. Generally Leia had to force him.

Of course, Poe wasn’t the one who’d been shot.

He was never going to admit it, and Alexander would probably kill him if he knew, but Poe was carefully keeping half an eye on Alexander as they walked, just in case. The guy could faint or something. Poe just wanted to make sure he was really okay, given he had appointed himself his escort and all.

Alexander, to his credit, or perhaps simply another indication of his stubbornness, moved as though nothing had happened. His pace was no slower and he shouldered his musket just as before he’d been injured. Poe wondered if anything slowed him down.

It was Poe, again, who called a halt to their proceedings. Alexander made no protest, and he did sit with a faint gingerness to his movements and a small sigh, enough to assure Poe the man was actually human and was in some pain. Poe gave him a bigger share of the rations and pressed against his uninjured side, offering a wordless bit of comfort. They settled in the shadow of a tree that seemed to stretch up and up and up, high into the sky. Green needles, a bit prickly but not sharp, extended from its branches, not quite like any tree Poe had seen in his travels.

“Your ship, then,” Alexander said, for as Poe was learning, he rarely stayed quiet for long. “It travels in the sky?”

“Yeah. It’s a starship, and I’m a pilot.”

“A pilot.” Alexander tested the word on his tongue. “We don’t have that word.” He sounded slightly peeved about it, like not knowing something offended him.

“Well, I don’t know what some of the words you say are, either, so I guess that makes us even.” Poe casually slid his arm behind Alexander’s shoulders, careful of the injured one, but it must not have been all that casual because Alexander eyed him with a sort of amused suspicion, like he knew what Poe’s aim was. Poe played with the ends of his hair; he liked how soft it was.

Alexander didn’t object. “Perhaps we could dispense with words altogether.”

“Yeah? And do what instead?”

Alexander leaned into him, his nose brushing the side of Poe’s face, his breath warm against Poe’s cheek. “I could think of a few things, since you seem to be seduced already.”

Poe was startled from the warm sense of something building and laughed. “Am I?”

“Very much.” Alexander’s lips trailed over Poe’s skin and it was him who was shivering now, his eyes fluttering closed as his breath hitched. “I can feel how your heart races.” It was ridiculous; Alexander was barely doing anything but Poe fucking _wanted_ him, stars.

So Poe turned and pressed his lips to Alexander’s, enjoying the muffled gasp he swallowed and the way Alexander’s hands curled into his shirt. He only barely pulled back, enough to whisper against Alexander’s mouth, “Are you sure it’s not you who’s been seduced?”

“Quite sure,” Alexander said in between soft presses of his lips that made Poe’s toes want to curl inside his boots, “though I’m not surprised you’ve failed to grasp the significance of the nuance.”

“You’re lucky you’re so hot,” Poe practically groaned into his mouth.

“So are you? Though I’m not sure how our elevated temperatures are relevant, or why it makes me lucky.” Alexander tilted his head, indicating his approval of the direction Poe’s mouth was taking.

Poe snickered into the side of his neck, then kissed it again. “I just meant you’re very attractive and that overcomes a lot of faults.”

“Ah. Yes, that’s…” Alexander’s words trailed off into a sigh as Poe pushed aside a bit of lacy fabric and nipped his throat. “I concede the point.”

That, Poe was learning, coming from Alexander, was a great victory. He trailed kisses back up Alexander’s neck, over his jaw, lips sliding over smooth skin and then the roughness of his short beard. The sounds Alexander was making were positively sinful, going straight to Poe’s dick. He smoothed his hands over Alexander’s back and wished he didn’t have so many damned layers on.

“They whip men for this, you know. Or worse.”

_For what?_ Poe wondered. _For kissing?_ What kind of world was this? “I won’t tell if you won’t,” he murmured into Alexander’s skin, sucking his lip between his teeth.

Alexander shifted, crawling into Poe’s lap, his knees digging in on either side of Poe’s hips. Poe ground upwards into Alexander’s groin, earning a ragged moan. They rutted against each other, Alexander bracing against Poe’s shoulders for leverage, and Poe easily shoved aside the voice nagging that Alexander had been shot and shouldn’t exert himself. Alexander was old enough to do whatever the fuck he wanted and Poe was happy that seemed to be him at the moment. Poe gripped Alexander’s ass as he moved, tucking his face back into Alexander’s neck, and bit his lip so he wouldn’t shout when their cocks rubbed together just right.

When he managed to get his hand down the front of Alexander’s pants to wrap around his cock, Alexander cried out, clearly no qualms at all about noise. Poe prayed to whoever might be listening that they really were alone, that those men they killed had been the last threat. “You should… ah, was that,” Poe tried to say, gasping at the way Alexander was managing to roll his hips even with Poe’s hand on him. “You think we’re safe?”

“Is this the best time to be thinking about that?” Alexander said, voice thick with irritation and lust. “Yes, I think so. We’re close to the camp. The British don’t come this far, and we killed everyone who was looking for me.”

“That sounds sensible,” Poe said, and flicked his thumb over the head of Alexander’s cock.

Alexander dropped his forehead down onto the top of Poe’s head, breathing hard. “You’re a bastard.”

“Uh huh,” Poe agreed, sliding his hand over the length of Alexander’s cock as Alexander pressed his lips to Poe’s temple, open-mouthed kisses that weren’t quite kisses.

With one hand, Poe tugged Alexander’s pants a little down over his hips, freeing his cock to the air, the few brain cells that were still working properly reminding him that this might be a little messy and Alexander probably wouldn’t appreciate being sticky and wet. Alexander was moaning as Poe’s hand worked him over and honestly, Poe hardly even needed to be touched, which was a little embarrassing. Alexander stroked his arms, his chest, fitting his hands inside Poe’s jacket and then up beneath his shirt to get to his skin. They kissed wet and sloppy and open-mouthed, Poe’s tongue curling behind Alexander’s teeth, until Alexander keened into his mouth and pressed their foreheads together.

“That’s it,” Poe said, “fuck, you’re hot,” as Alexander shuddered and came, grinding into Poe’s lap. Poe caught most of it on his hand, dripping down his wrist, and when he licked it off, Alexander made a sound a little like he was dying.

“You’re, you’re,” he tried to say, but that was apparently all the words he could get out. Poe was flattered; he doubted Alexander was speechless often.

He recovered enough to capture Poe’s mouth in a searing kiss that left him breathless, before breaking away to wiggle down and nuzzle against Poe’s crotch. Poe bit his lip and dropped his hand into Alexander’s hair, mussing it even further until there was more loose than there was tied in its neat ribbon. Alexander made quick work of Poe’s buttons and drew his cock out, swallowing it down.

Poe swore, alternately clutching and yanking at Alexander’s hair. “Fuck, shit, Alexander,” he said, just a string of nonsense falling from his lips as Alexander hummed around him. _Oral skills,_ Poe kept thinking, _he said he was known for his oral skills,_ and he had a stupid urge to laugh except Alexander was dragging his tongue over the slit at the head and rolling Poe’s balls in his fingers and stars, it had been too long. Poe’s own hand was fine, had been fine enough, but the sensation of being lost in the heat of Alexander’s mouth was… was…

“Wait, wait,” he tried to say, pushing at Alexander’s shoulders, trying not to look straight at his face because damn, he looked so good, those eyes, his lips stretched around Poe’s cock. “I’m really close, I don’t want to--”

But Alexander was holding Poe’s hips, keeping a firm grip as he somehow managed to swallow more of Poe’s cock down his throat, and okay, okay, he couldn’t, he was really gonna –

It was the sound, Poe thought, the sound that did it, Alexander moaning around his cock like he was really enjoying it, and the vibration, and yeah, that was it, Poe dug his fingers into the sides of Alexander’s skull and came like he hadn’t in months. He squeezed his eyes closed, everything dark, as Alexander swallowed it all.

When he came back to himself, Alexander was kneeling back, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he carefully tucked Poe back into his pants. “I thought we shouldn’t leave a mess,” he said, very casually, like he hadn’t just blown Poe’s world.

“Considerate,” Poe said, as he didn’t think he could manage anything more intelligent. Something was digging into his ass and he shifted; it was a kind of acorn, he thought, familiar and alien at the same time. In a fit of sentimentality he stuffed it into his pocket.

Alexander was watching him, a faint smile touching his mouth, his large eyes so dark and expressive even in the low light. “Kiss me again,” he said, and, well, Poe wasn’t going to object to that.

Alexander leaned forward as Poe wrapped his arms around his back, settling into Poe’s lap again, and they kissed leisurely, chasing the taste of each other out of their mouths. Alexander brushed Poe’s hair back and pressed a kiss just below the cut on his temple and it was so weirdly sweet that it made something in Poe ache.

Eventually Alexander moved enough so that he was sitting on his own, giving Poe’s thighs a bit of a break, but they leaned together from shoulder to hip. Alexander even let his head tilt towards Poe’s.

“How’s your shoulder?” Poe asked.

“Hurts a little, but quite honestly I forgot about it for a while.”

Poe chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I really do think we’re safe for the night, but I’ll keep watch anyway. Better not to take a chance.”

“I’ll stay up with you,” Poe offered, even though his body protested the very thought. It had been days now since he’d slept and the post-sex haze was making him remember that acutely.

“Go to sleep,” Alexander urged him. “I’ll stay up. It’s only fair.”

“It’s okay,” Poe said, but he was already losing the battle to stay awake. He drifted to sleep with Alexander’s arm around his waist, thumb rubbing gently over his hip.

-

Poe woke feeling stiff, with his head in Alexander’s lap and Alexander’s hand resting lightly in his hair. He wondered who was responsible for this change in position but couldn’t really regret it.

“Don’t say I should have woken you because I’d hate to think you’re a hypocrite.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Poe let himself enjoy the warmth of Alexander’s thighs for another few seconds before sitting up and stretching. “Good morning,” he said, and kissed Alexander.

Alexander kissed him back, hand curled behind Poe’s neck, and then nudged him back. “Morning. We should go.”

“So much for a morning after snuggle.” Poe watched Alexander climb to his feet and then accepted his hand up.

“I’ve been gone too long.” Alexander looked tired, dark circles beneath his eyes, but Poe knew there would be no arguing with him. He winced as he tried to tie his hair back into something more presentable, the stretch to his wounded shoulder surely bothering him.

“Here,” Poe said, and Alexander let him take over. If Poe might have lingered longer than necessary, combing his fingers through Alexander’s soft hair, stroking the back of his neck, well, Alexander didn’t complain.

They kept a good pace through the morning, leaving the edge of the woods behind them and walking through what appeared to be farmland. Alexander’s steps seemed to get surer and livelier the longer they walked, as though in anticipation of reaching his destination.

The large grouping of tents near a farmhouse was visible from a distance, and Alexander didn’t need to say anything for Poe to know that they had arrived. They came upon a sentry, dressed similarly to Alexander, if a bit more ragged, whose eyes widened as he realized who was approaching.

“Colonel Hamilton, sir,” the soldier said, saluting. “General Washington will be pleased by your return.”

Alexander nodded at him as they passed but made no more acknowledgment, instead focused as he hurried down a path towards one of the tents.

“You underplayed your role,” Poe said.

Alexander shrugged. “I man General Washington’s quill. It isn’t a field commission.”

They got only a little farther before someone shouted from behind them and Alexander stopped in place, turning. “Hamilton! Hamilton!”

A curly-haired, freckled soldier was running towards them and Alexander’s face broke into a wide grin. The man nearly bowled him over, barely breaking stride to engulf Alexander in a hug.

Alexander winced at the contact, at the pressure and the jarring to his shoulder. The man, whom Poe could only assume was Laurens, drew immediately back in concern. His eyes dropped down to the dried blood on his waistcoat that Alexander’s coat couldn’t entirely cover. “Alexander! You were injured?”

“It’s nothing,” Alexander began to protest but Laurens wasn’t having it.

“You’re hurt,” he said, already fussing. “This is your blood!”

Alexander gripped his hands. “My dear John, I assure you, I’m perfectly fine. My new friend saw to me exceedingly well.”

Poe nearly blushed when Alexander caught his eyes over Laurens’ shoulder. Leia, Poe was certain, would call Alexander a scoundrel. Fortunately, like Leia, Poe had a fondness for scoundrels.

Laurens took note of Poe as more than someone who was not Alexander for the first time. His eyebrows drew together as he looked from Alexander to Poe and back to Alexander, and he made a soft sound that expressed enough emotion that Poe could only assume Laurens was used to Alexander’s antics and guessed what may have transpired. Poe hadn’t forgotten Alexander’s comment about whipping, but Laurens at least, it seemed, was not quite so judging.

Then Laurens turned fully to Poe, no trace of sarcasm in his tone. “You have my thanks. I’m John Laurens.”

“Poe Dameron,” Poe said, and shook Laurens’ hand. “You have my admiration for dealing with him regularly.”

“It’s not easy, as I’m sure you must know.”

“But not entirely without reward,” Poe allowed, his lips curving upwards slightly.

This made Laurens color slightly, which was interesting, but before Poe could ponder that further Alexander interjected, “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m standing right here.”

“We could never forget,” Laurens said. “If we somehow could, your mouth would remind us.”

“Funny.”

“You should go to see His Excellency. He was worried.”

“Yes, of course. Is he--”

“Hamilton,” Laurens said, with exasperated fondness. “You know he will make a moment for you.”

“Yes,” Alexander said, and squeezed Laurens’ shoulder. “I’ll find you later. Poe, come with me.”

Following as Alexander set smartly off in the direction of the farmhouse, Poe asked, “You want me to meet your general?”

“You helped me. His Excellency will want to thank you.”

“I didn’t do much.”

Alexander ignored that entirely. “You’ll like General Washington. He is a great man.”

For Alexander to give him his loyalty, Poe suspected he must be. Alexander strode through the door to the farmhouse without looking at anyone twice, including the guards, carrying the certainty of a man who knew his place. Inside the farmhouse, it was as bustling and mad as any Resistance base, soldiers scurrying to and fro with messages and maps and bundles of supplies.

A handsome man Alexander greeted warmly and called Lafayette hugged him and told him he would find the general upstairs, so Poe hurried after Alexander as he took the steps two at a time. Eventually they came upon a tall, broad-shouldered man seated at a desk, whose tense bearing seemed visibly to relax when he discovered the intruder to his quarters was Alexander.

He stood, striding forward to meet Alexander halfway. “Alex!” He embraced him, which seemed to take Alexander by surprise. He remained stiff for a long moment in the general’s grip until he let himself return the hug for a few seconds and then stepped back.

Alexander saluted. “General, I apologize for my delay. I was--”

General Washington waved him off. “Explanations later, Hamilton. I am very glad to see you safe.” His eyes were soft as he looked Alexander over. “You are safe?” His gaze lingered on Alexander’s shoulder.

“It’s nothing. It doesn’t even pain me.”

Which was a blatant lie and Poe could see by the general’s narrowed eyes that he knew that. “I will expect you to visit the medical tent when you leave here.”

“But--”

General Washington raised a hand. Alexander fell silent.

“Who is your companion?” General Washington asked, looking to Poe.

Poe stepped forward. “Poe, sir. I came across Alex-- Colonel Hamilton in the woods.”

“He was kind enough to escort me back to camp,” Alexander said. “He was of great help to me.”

“You have my thanks,” the general said. “You are a civilian?”

Hesitating, Poe said, “I’m not from the…” He looked to Alexander, fighting to remember the word he had used. “From the colonies. I’m afraid that now that I’ve brought Alexander here, I must be on my way home. I have a long way to travel.”

Suspicion flickered across the general’s face but resolved when he met Alexander’s eyes for a moment. “If there is anything we can do to aid you, just ask. Alexander can get you food from our stores, supplies.”

Given what Alexander had said about the state of their army, it was a more than generous offer. “Thank you, sir. If I could just refill my water canteen, I’d be set. Oh, and perhaps a map? I’m not sure I can retrace my steps.”

General Washington chuckled. “That’s all? Well, we can certainly manage that. Hamilton, please see to it.”

“Of course, sir,” Alexander said. “And then I--”

“And then you will report to the medical tent.”

They stared each other down. Alexander caved. “Yes, Your Excellency.”

Poe chewed on his lip so he wouldn’t smile.

“Thank you again,” General Washington said to Poe, nodding at him, and Poe was struck with the urge to bow, so he did.

_A great man,_ Alexander had said. Poe could understand why, even after this brief interaction. There was something in his bearing, in his face, that made it obvious that this was a real leader, a man to be followed into hell. He reminded Poe of Leia.

A tiny bit of Poe also thought he certainly wouldn’t mind serving General Washington in other ways, and wondered if Alexander did. Or longed to. Poe couldn’t quite make himself ask.

Poe and Alexander walked back outside the farmhouse, and Alexander took him to what must have been a supply tent. It was guarded, but Alexander had only to say General Washington’s name and he was let through. Poe supposed being Washington’s aide must open a lot of doors for Alexander.

“Are you certain you need nothing else?” Alexander asked as he quickly sketched a map of the forest between the encampment and where he had found Poe.

Poe tucked his newly filled canteen away and patted his satchel. “I have everything I need.”

“Yes, your odd medical supplies and your glowing stick and your not food.” Alexander quirked a smile at him. “You’ll be fine.”

“All things you took advantage of,” Poe reminded him as he took the finished map. It was drawn on real paper, not flimsi or anything. Poe had never seen actual physical paper before, not in person, not to hold in his hands.

“But not my favorite thing to take advantage of.” Alexander brushed deliberately against Poe and there was absolutely no way the placement of his hand was accidental, but he had already exited the tent before Poe could so much as balk at him.

Poe caught up to him outside and they walked quietly, back towards what Poe recognized as the spot where they had met Laurens. He wondered if Alexander had some plan because all that really was left for them to do was to say goodbye.

Not that Poe was particularly eager to do so, but delaying it would serve no purpose. They both had lives to live and missions to accomplish that unfortunately didn’t intersect.

He supposed he was lucky they had intersected for even this much.

“That’s my tent,” Alexander pointed out. “I share it with Laurens and Lafayette, and Mulligan, too, but he’s gone. I’m sorry you won’t meet him.”

“Yes. I would have liked to.” Poe wondered what Alexander would make of his friends.

Alexander turned fully to him, clearly bracing himself. This was it. “I regret that you must go.”

“Me, too,” Poe said, and meant it.

“You will be alright on your own? It seems callous to simply send you on your way after you escorted me.”

“Oh, I can take care of myself. And anyway, I have no enemies here. I’m not part of your army.”

“You could be,” Alexander said, though his face said more than his words did. His face said, _please stay, but I know you won’t, I know you can’t. I needed to ask anyway._

“I have my own war to fight,” Poe said, and Alexander nodded, shaking the resigned, hopeless wanting out of his expression.

“Yes, I know. I wish you luck.”

Alexander offered him a couple of pages of folded parchment he pulled from inside his coat, tied with a ribbon such as he kept in his hair; their fingers brushed when Poe took it. Real paper again. “You said you expected a letter,” Alexander said. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

“I didn’t write you one,” Poe said dumbly, trying to mask that he was actually rather touched by the gesture. He wasn’t exactly in the habit of writing letters; there was something kind of charming and quaint about receiving one.

“That’s alright.” Alexander’s tiny smile was less bright than the warmth in his eyes. “I expect you would only have embarrassed yourself in comparison.”

“You’re really talking yourself up here. This letter better deliver.”

“I’ve never had complaints.”

Poe forced himself to look away before he did something stupid like kiss Alexander in the middle of the camp. He was more than a little sorry that he couldn’t. “When did you find time to write it? I’ve been with you every step.”

“While you slept.”

Alexander’s words conjured an image of him sitting in the dark, perhaps finding the glowrod to light his way, scribbling as Poe slept in his lap. It made Poe feel uncommonly warm and damn but he wanted to kiss Alexander’s dumb, handsome face.

On a whim he dug into his pocket and found the acorn; he pressed it into Alexander’s hand. “You said I should give you pretty things, right? I don’t have a letter but maybe you can keep this to remember me.”

“I doubt I’ll need help remembering you,” Alexander said, but he turned his palm over to blink at the acorn. “Is this…?”

Poe grinned at him. “From the tree where we fucked? Yeah. Kind of romantic, huh?”

Alexander met his smile. “That’s one way to describe it. I will treasure it.” He tucked the acorn inside his coat. Poe resisted making a joke about keeping it close to his heart.

After a careful glance over their surroundings, Alexander took Poe’s hand, holding it to his lips to kiss. He looked at Poe through his eyelashes. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Poe.”

_A scoundrel,_ Poe thought. A charming scoundrel with beautiful manners and he was certain they would have been great friends in another life. Twisting his hand in Alexander’s grip until they were grasping palms, Poe pulled him over into the relative seclusion of the side of the tent Alexander shared with his friends. Just a moment alone, that was all he needed, and Alexander seemed willingly content with the risk.

Poe cupped Alexander’s face in his hands and kissed him, too swift and too brief but with enough to make Alexander press into him, gasping into his mouth. Poe thought he would remember this, how Alexander felt, how he tasted, and carry it with him.

They leaned their foreheads together for a moment, breathing, until reluctantly they moved apart again. Alexander’s eyes were dark and he darted his tongue out to drag across his lip. Poe had to call upon every ounce of his restraint not to kiss him again.

“Good luck in your revolution,” Poe told him. “I don’t doubt that you’ll be successful, if your army is half as committed as you are. Take care of yourself, Alexander.”

“Safe journey across the stars, Poe,” Alexander said, and Poe smiled as he turned to walk away.

-

Alexander’s map was crude but accurate, and helped a good deal. Poe found his trek back through the woods to be quieter and lonelier without Alexander’s company but he made good time. He had still barely quantified the damage to his ship, and that was besides the genuine concern that if he took flight, he didn’t know that he could recreate the circumstances that had brought him from his galaxy to this one.

No point to worrying about it, though, Poe told himself. Optimism, that was his thing. It was gonna work out, and he’d have a hell of a story to tell.

Or to keep. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to share Alexander just yet.

He considered walking through the night but decided it wasn’t worth the risk of getting lost in the dark. When he settled by a tree, he couldn’t help the flood of memories of Alexander, and lamented both the lack of his warmth and his chatter.

And his mouth.

As a consolation, he lit up the glowrod and took out Alexander’s letter. Poe unfolded the parchment, marveling at how lovely the penmanship was, especially considering the circumstances of its writing, and began to read. Alexander hadn’t been exaggerating, it turned out; he did write beautiful letters, though Poe found his astonishment growing the more he read.

_Dearest Poe,_

_Though our acquaintance has been brief, I trust that it will not prove to be any less than memorable, and that you will have occasion in future to think of me fondly, as I will you. While the memory of our time together is still fresh, and indeed, while you are still so close to me that I can feel the beating of your heart, I find that inspiration is not difficult to come by._

_It is my fervent desire that memory of me shall always cause your spirits to rise, and that perhaps you might, from time to time, unsheathe this letter when you are alone and in need of companionship. For we have fought together, now, making us brothers in arms, and is there any stronger, closer bond than that forged in the heat of battle?_

_I am sure you will recall the chill of the air when we met, but it is heat which I bid you focus on, the heat of bodies entangled in war, joined together as we fought side by side against a foe. It seems I can almost taste the sweat as it beaded upon the skin. Please tell me I am not alone in this, or in my recollection of your hands upon our weaponry, how gently you could stroke the smooth shaft. Of course great care must be taken with something so important._

_I must grip my quill tight to form these words, and I find that the flow comes easier when I imagine you doing the same. I pray that I am not alone in this, and that some night you will find your thoughts fall to me again, and you take hold of your quill as firmly as I do mine. I recall the shape of your mouth when it formed my name, and other things, and I wonder if your thoughts will be as vivid, if you will see my lips._

_Due to the nature of our entanglement there was much we had not the chance to do, but my dear, no one has ever told me I lacked for imagination. I think on that now, how your eyes seemed to pierce me, your words run me through, how well I am sure we would have fit. If I close my eyes I can conjure up the image of you wielding your weapon, penetrating defenses. I always strive for satisfaction yet have never truly achieved it; I would have enjoyed allowing you to satisfy me._

_There is a way, in the joining of things, that makes one gasp for breath; do you feel that? I pray that your hand is still as strong as I remember it, in service of you as it was for me. With every stroke of my quill I remember. Perhaps a firmer grasp may be needed, for you to appreciate the thrust of my point. Tell me, are you close to getting it? In battle there is often a soft ejaculation at the climax. As I recall you were not so soft._

_I trust you derive as much pleasure from these memories and musings as I do. You may take comfort in my assurance that no one has ever quite measured up to you, and that I will hold you close for that._

_Yours most affectionately,_

_A. Hamilton_

“Shit,” Poe said after a second’s consideration. “He wrote me porn.”

**_Epilogue_ **

“You’re lucky I like you,” Finn muttered to himself as he tossed an empty shampoo bottle into the trash bin.

Poe had asked him if he’d mind packing his things while he took care of some repairs on BB-8, since they were picking up to move base. It wasn’t a big deal, considering none of them had all that much in the way of personal belongings on base, but Poe always managed to accumulate extra junk so Finn had to sort out what was important from what wasn’t.

The paper tied in ribbon was a surprise; where the hell would Poe have gotten that from? He would admit to the betrayal of privacy as he unfolded it, curiosity piqued, but if Poe was that bothered about Finn looking at his stuff, he shouldn’t have asked Finn to pack for him. Besides, Poe didn’t really keep secrets from him.

Finn read it twice, hardly able to believe his own eyes. He couldn’t decide if the whole thing was tastefully erotic or just dirty as fuck and trying to disguise itself. “Poe!” Finn yelled. “Who the hell is A. Hamilton and why did he write you a bunch of dick jokes in really fancy handwriting?”

**_End_ **


End file.
